


Headshot

by usermechanics



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Facials, G!P Widowmaker, Girl Penis, Large Cock, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:22:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28824405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usermechanics/pseuds/usermechanics
Summary: As an assassin, Amélie Lacroix loved to destroy her targets with headshots. Even if Tracer isn't necessarily a target in the traditional sense, she gets a headshot all the same.
Relationships: Lena "Tracer" Oxton/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix
Comments: 11
Kudos: 50





	Headshot

**Author's Note:**

> This has probably been done a lot of times before, but considering that Widowmaker is a sniper in game, I just had to do it, and hey, nothing wrong with some girl penis, right?

There was a reason why Amélie Lacroix was a member of the Overwatch League.

It was partially the cold-blooded tendencies she showed towards her targets, and it was partially the way that she could clean out the list of assassinations she received on the daily. But if there were any reason over any other that Amélie was a part of the League, it was because of her ability to, in any instance, get a clean headshot on her target, regardless of the weapons she used.

Of course, that was only when she truly wished to use her weapon to get a clean headshot, on the days where she wished not really to play with her prey. Perhaps she had just gotten done with a particular target where she did go a bit too far with playing with her food, and she wanted a break. Sometimes, there wasn’t even enough time to trap her target and slowly suck the life out of them, and a clean headshot was what she needed to perform. In any instance, when she needed to be a cold, effective killer, she was exactly that, someone who could murder without the slightest provocations and someone who could do it repeatedly and quickly.

Some days, though, she didn’t need to kill her prey, especially when they were also members of the League. Some people she wished to assassinate on her own time, even if it were against the regulations of the League and would lead to her own expulsion. She’d come up with alternatives, such as practicing with mannequins with their likenesses to increase her desires to shoot them, or performing the assassinations in her dreams where she could draw them out in her fantasies as long as she wished. There weren’t any rules or regulations about dreaming in the League; the only rule that she really had to abide by was the rule of not murdering fellow league members for petty or arbitrary reasons.

She hoped that what she was doing to Lena Oxton didn’t break any particular rules.

Lena was a special case. Everyone else wanted to call her Tracer, but it never felt right for Amélie to do. Perhaps it was an animosity towards her hotheadedness that brought such a grudge up against her; not that Lena even noticed nor seemed to care about not being called Tracer by a fellow league member. If anything, she reciprocated the cold affection by calling her Amélie in kind. Amélie didn’t like that at all; there was something so cocky about the way that she said it, something almost cold in her tone that she’d never give to anyone else. Not even Junkrat on his most dastardly and perverted of days would receive the ire that Lena’s tone directed towards Amélie on a normal day.

And yet, Lena seemed perfectly fine being silenced by Amélie’s lips pressed flush against hers.

It had been a blur as to how they got themselves into this position, pinned up against the wall of some undisclosed room in the League headquarters, and such a setback didn’t seem to be much of a complaint to either of them. There was something about Lena bumping into her in the hallway (maybe if she didn’t dash throughout the halls so recklessly Amélie wouldn’t need to have taught her any lessons) and a moment where Lena grinned as Amélie talked about teaching her a lesson.

Lena must have known how revealing her outfit was in showcasing her curves, wearing a pair of athletic leggings and a tank top like she was going to spend all day running, and as Amélie introduced her to the room where she’d be teaching her a lesson, Lena just had to bite her lip and slip into the room with a cheeky wiggle of her hips.

Once the door closed behind Amélie, Lena made one joke about being caught up in Amélie’s trap, and that must have been the catalyst for pressing Lena up against some indiscriminate brick wall and meshing her lips against Lena’s.

It was supposed to be a motion to intimidate and establish dominance, and there Lena was, reciprocating the kiss with an equal ferocity, like it was some sort of competition. As much as Amélie appreciated the enthusiasm radiating from Lena as they shared kisses, Lena was supposed to be trapped, caught in her web much like the rest of her targets. She was supposed to be scared, and instead, she seemed to be inviting Amélie to keep doing what she was doing.

The hands grabbing Amélie by the hips and pulling her into Lena definitely didn’t help manners. At least, that was what Amélie believed at first; it was a thought that quickly passed as she examined Lena’s features once their bodies were flush against one another, and the slightly agape lips conveying a mixture of shock, confusion, and lust.

Inquisitively, one of Lena’s hands reached between Amélie’s thighs, and grasped onto the bulge that was forming underneath her skirt. Lena’s eyes grew wider as her fingers traced what she had found, undoing the tuck that Amélie had spent all her time doing. An assassin needed to keep her best weapons hidden from the public at all times, and as Lena’s hand continued to explore, she discovered much more of her weapon.

Amélie looked at her with squinted, almost disappointed eyes, and she thrust her hips into Lena’s. Lena huffed as the bulge left her hand and crashed into her lower belly, introducing her more properly to the girth that she had been starting to toy with. Her fingers squeezed what handhold of Amélie’s hip she still had, their bodies now much more flush with one another.

With their bodies flush, and Amélie’s gaze tipped downward slightly so she could look into Lena’s eyes, she leaned in and pressed her lips against Lena’s once more, initiating kisses which she was still eager to reciprocate with her fiery ferocity.

It had not been enough for Amélie, though, to have Lena kissing her like that; she still didn’t understand through her motions the roles that they were supposed to play. Lena was cornered prey, not someone to be playing a game with the woman about to destroy her. A fluttering of kisses along Lena’s jawline was the next weapon in her arsenal, one she performed to the response of a few eager huffs from Lena’s lips, and one that led Lena to push her hips against Amélie’s.

She was still fucking fighting.

“You know that you’re caught in my trap, right, Lena?” Amélie asked, as if to reinforce the roles that she wished to establish. She brought her kisses up Lena’s jawline until she was at her ear, with one of her hands finally slipping between their bodies to take a handful of Lena’s breast. “As my prey?”

Lena let out a soft squeak and nodded, her lips still finding the audacity to curl up in an excited smile. Perhaps it was impossible to create terror in her, the kind of terror that showed her submission; a terror that was nothing more than purely erotic to her. Maybe Lena was showing a slight bit of that terror and reflected that in her mounting excitement; she was hard for Amélie to understand completely.

“Can I hear a ‘yes, ma’am’ out of you?” Amélie asked, her voice growing more sinister as her fingers dug at her chest, enjoying the size of her bosom and the clear lack of brassiere that covered her bosom.

“You’re gonna have to earn that from me, love,” Lena remarked, a teasing smile forming on her face before she rolled her head back and let out a moan towards the ceiling; Amélie pushed her hips into Lena’s, letting her crotch feel the warmth of her weapon pressing tightly against her.

That squeak had that kind of erotic undertone Amélie wished she could hear from Lena all the time, one that made clear that she fucked up. It was an undertone that Lena didn’t show on her expression, but the words spoke louder than her expression.

And her actions, besides the fake smile that she wore, spoke even louder than her words. She could feel as she sandwiched Lena’s hips between her own and the wall behind her how much Lena wanted to fight back, and the anguish that her lithe and muscular body was somehow overpowered by the force of Amélie’s hips against her. She could feel Lena’s legs quivering even more with every attempt that failed, ending up with her body grinding up against her bulge, the weapon that would end up sedating this target once and for all.

And after enough fighting, Lena’s legs gave out and she rested on her feet as much as she did her knees. Lena’s nose barely grazed Amélie’s torso through the motion, and before she knew it, Lena’s cocky smile was flush with Amélie’s crotch, the grin perhaps happy to see such a massive member dangling between Amélie’s thighs.

Lena’s hands grabbed onto Amélie’s skirt and pulled it down, making sure to take her panties down along the way. Amélie stepped back, making sure that her cock didn’t end up smacking Lena as it seesawed once it was free from its cloth prison. Looking down, she admired the distance between her lower body and Lena’s lips, only separated by the thick girth of her cock. Its thick purple tip was pointed exactly where she wanted it to be, directly at Lena’s face, her prime target for her weapon.

“Fuck,” Lena huffed, her jaw falling slack in a mix of amazement and wondering if she’d even be able to fit it into her maw. Her hands reached out and wrapped around her base, feeling the circumference of her cock around both hands; it simply couldn’t fit in the grasp of one of her hands alone. Lena looked down at her hands and across the veiny girth that separated her from her palms, her eyes growing slightly worried. Lena looked up at Amélie with that concerned expression. “I’m not sure if it’s going to fit…”

As Lena kept her mouth open to let out silent sighs of wonder that tickled Amélie’s cock, Amélie pushed her hips forward and slipped the first bits of her cock into Lena’s mouth. Lena’s eyes grew wide as she was muffled, the taste of Amélie’s cock overflowing her mouth. Amélie could already start feeling the drool against her tip; Lena’s mouth was already ready for her to take, and she thrust her hips forward, allowing herself entrance into Lena’s needy maw.

Lena moaned a moan not of excitement and cockiness that Amélie had grown plenty used to from their previous debauchery. That would have been too easy for her to perform. Instead, Lena moaned lowly and hotly against Amélie’s cock, as if to stimulate her. It was finally a display of submission, one of understanding of the position between them. Amélie was in control and Lena was the prey, but a target for Amélie’s desires.

And, particularly, Lena’s throat was Amélie’s target, with her cock barreling down her mouth until her tip pressed up against the back of Lena’s throat. Lena’s mouth tightened instantly, trying to reject the sudden intrusion inside her mouth, but Amélie didn’t let up, continuing to push forward.

“Just relax and enjoy…” Amélie huffed, a command that she knew Lena to understand as she pushed her hips forward and felt her tip slowly slip into her tight throat. Amélie paused as she entered her throat for her own sake; it was so much tighter than the rest of Lena’s mouth, pulling the foreskin that covered her back and embracing her tip. Amélie’s legs quivered slightly, but as she grew used to the feeling of being in Lena’s mouth, she pursued, continuing to stuff her weapon down Lena’s throat.

Lena looked up at her with tear-stained eyes and her lips curled upwards as much as she could manage. Still, through it all, Lena was taking the abuse with as wide a smile as possible. In some respects, Amélie had to respect it; Lena was doing her role of a target well, even if she wasn’t afraid of it. Yet, Lena had still to understand a few final things; perhaps she’d never understand them, and perhaps she knew that if she understood them and accepted them she’d be admitting a true defeat and she’d never do that.

Yet, no matter what, Lena had been able to take the entirety of Amélie’s cock into her mouth, even if her throat milked the front half of it and her hands were on Amélie’s hips, trying to pull her off. Amélie reached for Lena’s hair, slipping it into the short, jagged dark locks. Amélie’s fingers curled into the back of Lena’s head, and slowly, she pulled herself out of Lena’s throat and mouth, observing the spit that coated the entirety of her cock. Lena had completely soaked her cock, and as strands of saliva were the only things that connected her lips to her cock, Lena huffed, gasping for air like she resurfaced after a deep dive.

In that gasping, Amélie looked down at her with the slightest bit of concern, but it was a concern that disappeared as she felt to hands reaching between her thighs and groping her balls. The feeling of them being stirred filled Amélie with further anger; Lena still had the audacity to come out and play with her, even after all she had done.

Amélie looked down, and more insultingly, Lena had her mouth open, welcoming her to shove her cock in her throat once more. That was exactly what Amélie did, forcing herself down Lena’d throat and soon finding a rhythm for her hips to push and pull her cock inside of Lena’s mouth. Spit flew out from the corners of Lena’s lips as her tongue wiggled around weakly against the unyielding motions of Amélie’s cock thrust in her mouth.

Her hands continued to play with Amélie’s balls, tightening her fondles whenever she pushed herself down into her throat. A gag would sometimes leak from Lena’s lips, but she tried her best not to let them out; any bit of defeat would leave Amélie thinking that she was winning, and the last she wanted to hear was about her superiority. It wasn’t Lena’s fault that Amélie had such a large and delicious cock; she was going to resist succumbing to it, though.

“Caught up in my little trap,” Amélie gloated as she thrust into Lena’s mouth, letting a particularly loud squelch of Lena’s throat fill the air between them. “You’re just my little target.”

It was hard to argue with Amélie’s words, as much as she wanted to, with a cock in her throat; all she could do was take it, enjoy the taste and how Amélie throbbed inside her mouth, and how her balls tightened as she continued using her mouth like a personal fucksleeve.

Yet, as the taste of Amélie’s precum filled Lena’s mouth, she had to admit that Amélie could be worth submitting fully to, just to enjoy the intoxication of her cock once more. Her head grew fuzzy from the mix of asphyxiation and the flavor, her mouth letting out one long, muffled moan that made clear to Amélie that, for the time being, she won.

And Amélie had the perfect way to cement her victory in front of Lena, one that would leave her completely embarrassed, and one that fit perfectly who Amélie was. She was a cold-blooded killer who left all her targets with a headshot with her best weapon.

In that case, that headshot was a hefty coating of thick, white cum that spewed from her tip the moment that her tip left Lena’s lips. To add insult to injury, she made sure to shoot her load on Lena’s forehead, ignoring her open lips and getting her cum everywhere else on her face. Lena flinched, her eyes closing before any cum could get in them, and before she knew it, her cheeks were plastered in cum as well. Her entire face, bar the ring of pink where her lips were, was coated in Amélie’s cum.

Watching as Lena wiped the cum off her face with her fingers, Amélie brought her hands to her skirt and panties and pushed them up, covering her body as if to tell Lena that she wouldn’t be receiving anything else. Her throat was perfect for what she wanted, and the sight of Lena having to clean herself up from her headshot, the symbolic victory, was more than enough.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” Amélie said once Lena had uncovered her eyes enough for her to open them.

Lena brought her cum-coated fingers to her mouth and cleaned them off one after the other. “Mhm,” she said, “but how do I bump into you so the next time you teach me a lesson you’ll fuck me proper?”

Amélie shook her head. That was not what she wanted to hear from her, and the cocky smirk on Lena’s face made clear that she wanted her words to reach deep into Amélie’s psyche.

They worked, arguably more so than the trap Amélie had set up.

“We’ll find a way,” Amélie said. “I’m sure of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I didn't realize how fun it'd be to write Widowmaker in particular, and this is a ship that I can see myself writing more for. Maybe it'll be my gateway into writing Overwatch...


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